Uncle Gerry had a girlfriend in NY

By: John Kominicki July 31, 2009Comments Off on Uncle Gerry had a girlfriend in NY

I visited my aging godmother in Rhode Island over the weekend and we decided to drop in on Uncle Gerry and his wife Rose.

Gerry was married to my mother’s sister, Muriel, who died of breast cancer almost 30 years ago. He grieved briefly, met Rose, then signaled his intention to move on by burning Muriel’s belongings in a backyard fire.He hasn’t, understandably, been a family favorite.

But he’s in his 80s now, limited by stroke and bipolar issues to a wheelchair, and confined to a city-run nursing facility. Worn out by the stress of it all, Rose talked her way in, too, albeit to a better wing. She has the run of the place; he does a lot of staring.

The godmother and I arrived at 10 a.m., knowing Gerry would be wheeled off for lunch at 11. That’s called an exit strategy. We found Rose in her room, a ground-floor suite papered over with photos and packed like a Skid Row cubicle with the flotsam of a hundred family visits. She didn’t quite remember me, but she was thrilled to have company.

She led us to an upstairs sunroom where we found Gerry, already dressed for lunch and sporting a “U.S. Navy Veteran” cap. He was a little jowly, but instantly recognizable as the uncle of my youth. He brightened at the sight of my godmother, a Catholic lay minister who regularly serves communion at the facility.

“We having Mass today?” he asked. “I really need to go to confession.”

“Not today – next week,” my godmother said with eucharistic patience. “John lives in New York now.”

“New York! I had a girlfriend in New York,” Gerry said, sitting straighter. “Oh, boy, that was a story.”

“Don’t ask,” Rose cautioned. “All she ever wanted was sex.”

“Are we having Mass today?” Gerry asked.

“Not today,” the godmother said.

“Yep, all she wanted was sex,” Rose said.

“Kominicki!” Gerry said, offering his hand for another shake. “What do you do in New York?”

“I run a newspaper,” I said.

“Newspapers! Is that a good business?”

“It used to be,” I started, “but the Internet …”

“We having Mass today?” he asked, turning to my godmother.

“She’ll come next week,” Rose said. “I’ll call her. I call her every Monday and all I ever get is a recording. It’s a man’s voice and I think, well, she’s gone and gotten herself a boyfriend. But I’ll call her. I call her every Monday.”

“Newspapers. That’s a good business,” Gerry told me. “You travel?”

“Yes,” I said. “We own papers all over the country.”

“He travels all over the country,” Gerry told the other two. “He’s my first cousin, you know.”

“No, he’s your nephew,” the godmother said. “John Kominicki.”

“Kominicki!” Gerry said, offering his hand once more. “My buddy. Newspapers. That a good business?”

“Yes,” I said, “a good business.”

“We having Mass today?” Gerry tried again.

“No Mass,” Rose said. “I’ll call her Monday. I call her every Monday.”

“He travels all over the country, you know,” Gerry said. “Newspaper man. Good business.”

“He really wanted to see you before he went back to New York,” the godmother said.

“I had a girlfriend in New York,” Gerry said.

“Yes, yes,” Rose jumped in. “We know all about the girlfriend in New York.”